


The Day We Find Paper, I’ll Have a Lot to Write Down

by CallousHeartz



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 21:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16648214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallousHeartz/pseuds/CallousHeartz
Summary: Ghoul writes a love letter in his mind, because where the hell can you find a working pen and paper out here?





	The Day We Find Paper, I’ll Have a Lot to Write Down

_To the light of my life._

_You brought out a side of me I never knew existed, and all I can say is thanks - 'cause I've grown to adore that side. Probably because it's the side I get to share with you - anything that gets to experience you, could only be beautiful beyond belief._

It's been a couple of months since the last time Ghoul visited WKIL - out here, it's hard to find the time.  
Regardless, though, the next time mucky jeans with torn-up knees, scruffy, ink black hair, and dirt-caked fingernails come through his door, Dr Death Defying lets out a true, roaring laugh, and clasps his hands tightly like he can barely believe this is reality.

The kid's a handful at times, sure, (especially when that Kobra comes in with him - the rowdiest goddamn pair) but lord has he missed his fiery spirit and pointless jokes.

Ghoul grins so wide he almost looks ridiculous, and points a finger at D.

"My favourite old fucker!" He chirps, bowing his head a little and screwing up his face as D roughly musses up his hair.

Ghoul laughs as he flops onto the weather-beaten sofa, making himself at home.

D wastes no time in kick-starting the process of catching up.

"Well, spill ya news, kid, if ya got any - 'n I don't doubt ya 'ave," D beams, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns his wheelchair to face Ghoul.

"Oh, man," Ghoul shakes his head, almost glowing from his smile, "Where the fuck do I begin?"

"Begin at whatever's most important,"

Ghoul tips his head back with a hand over his eyes,  
"Ah, shit."

Now, not only is he grinning like he can't help it, but his cheeks are tinted with rosy blotches - which hasn't happened since the time Kobra proudly recited the tale of the last time he walked in on Ghoul naked.

"Oh geez," D purses presses his lips firmly together, already amused in a mildly disappoving sense, "This one's gonna be entertainin'"

"I dunno 'bout entertaining, but uh," Ghoul sucks in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly as he sits up straight, like he's trying to calm his nerves.  
"So, um. Made things official with a certain someone, I guess," 

He shrugs, smiling bashfully as D's eyes widen.

" _Fuck_ , kid! Ah, shit,"  
It's like the news is still sinking in.  
"I'm proud. I'm fuckin' proud. I knew ya would,"

_Sometimes I think back on the day this crew let me in. The day I found my place out here. Or I'll think about the first day we met. And it makes me laugh, kinda, because I'd never, in a million years, have seen us here. I don't think you would've, either.  
So I don't know which path we took exactly from then on, but fuck am I glad we took it._

They're just talking for a while - or, Ghoul is - it seems hours pass as he's rambling on and on about the shit the gang's done, about the people they've met and the dracs they've blasted, with eyes like dark fairy lights and hands that won't keep still.

Sometimes D's only half-listening, but even in those moments, he appreciates the boy's company all the same.

He's halfway through some story that he's barely been able to tell through his laughter - there's a lot of toilet humour involved, and a lot of opportunities to make fun of Kobra - when the station door creaks open again.  
Ghoul looks up, and the expression on his face can't be described.

"Hang on," His tone softens, and it's a surprise - D's never heard it like this before. "We got a visitor,"

He leaps up from the old sofa (which emits a slightly concerning screech) and sprints over to the door, laughing as his face gets lost in a flurry of bright scarlet hair.

He grabs the visitor by the waist and spins him around. They’re both laughing, actually - giggling like school kids, though there's nothing funny happening.

Ghoul murmurs something into the curve of Poison's neck, (which he gently pushes his hair over the other shoulder to reach), holding him loosely around the hips.

Poison nods at whatever he says, then flashes him a coy smile, giggling again as Ghoul takes his hand, lazily kissing the backs of his fingers before pulling him over to the sofa.

Ghoul sits with one arm propped on the arm rest and the other draped around Poison's shoulders like it's just used to being there.

_And I'm eternally glad I got lost in you. There's nowhere else I'd rather be lost; because in you, I don't quite feel lost. I feel like I've found home. There are only two other times I've felt that way: the day I stepped foot on the sand for the first time, and the day I knew I was truly a part of this - a part of the Killjoys. A missing piece, (though I didn't used to believe that.)_  
_But home was never, before now, something I could hold close to me - something I could truly feel._  
_Something so pretty I gotta remind myself time after time that this isn't just my imagination getting wild again. Something I can feel, taste under my own lips._

“Damn, I got ‘alf the crew in ‘ere already an’ it ain’t even nine o’ clock in the mornin’,” D laughs gruffly at the two boys in front of him. “I mean, you two ‘ave sorta been a package deal lately, so I ain’t surprised to see the both of ya,”

Poison smiles in a way that seems new, but fits him better than the gloves on his hands, ice blue eyes all dazed and dreamlike.

“Guess ya could say that, yeah,” He replies, subconsciously nestling a little closer into Ghoul, who rests his chin on his hair and runs a hand up his arm, tracing Poison’s sleeve of ink with his fingertips - he knows it like the route home on a map.

Something about this little show of youthful love brings D a wave of cashmere-soft nostalgia, and he can’t help but think how he wants nothing but the best for these two and what they’ve found.

_A lot’s fallen into place since you and I became us. Shit makes sense now, and there are some things I barely think about anymore. And there are other things I can’t stop thinking about, but I never want to. Not as long as the Witch wants me out here._

_To the light of my life - darling, thank fuck I found you._


End file.
